


The Denim Jacket

by islet



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Character Study, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:31:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islet/pseuds/islet
Summary: Dan reunites with his beloved black denim jacket, makes a Totally Shocking Confession and gains five Family Points.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Dan's liveshow on April 4th 2017 in which he talks about wearing Phil's jacket out about in London. Great stuff. Finally some real content for the trash receptacle fans!1!1!!

April 4th, 2017. Our protagonist, young Daniel 'Dan the Man' Howell, awoke with a sense of trepidation and no idea why.

Thirty agonising, sleep-addled seconds later, it hit him.

His mum was in town, which meant one of three things:

A: She had a business meeting, which meant she had no time for Dan. This was frankly a blessing in disguise, but Dan would rather die before he admitted that, especially to Phil, who believed in unconditional family love like a three-year-old believed Santa Claus wasn’t an axe-wielding murderer ready to feed your kidneys to Rudolph.

B: She was feeling a sporadic bout of mother’s guilt. This was the worst because then Dan felt obligated to feel the corresponding son’s guilt and forcing two guilty Howells to interact never ended well, even if it was in the fanciest restaurant in London that Dan’s money could buy.

C: A family friend from London had died and she had a wake to attend. This was the most neutral option because it meant she was too busy to see Dan, but he still had to suffer the cringe of recalling that he had been irrevocably banned from all family friend funerals, age fifteen, after he had spent the entire time on his Nintendo DS with the volume on full blast because he was an Edgelord XD.

But which one was it? It'd been too long since he'd checked the family group text.

He rolled over in bed, feeling the cool sheets against his skin. It wasn’t too late to pretend to be sick -- that way none of the options could hurt him any more than making him sit through hours of feeling guilty about being a shit son, and that was practically Dan's side job.

It wasn’t entirely his fault, Dan reckoned. Logically, he knew that all families were different and it was okay to be slightly estranged from your family; it was okay to see them three times a year; it was _yeah maybe a bit weird_ to miss the dog more than the people but _everyone’s different_. This had been kindly, calmly, and reassuringly told to him over two mugs of hot chocolate by Heather the props team lead on the TATINOF USA tour bus. Heather had taken a course in peer counselling in uni and had fancied herself equipped to deal with Dan’s 3AM freak-out about almost forgetting his brother’s birthday.

From his cocoon of blankets he could hear Phil moving about in the kitchen. If Dan pretended to be _really_ ill, Phil might bring him a cup of tea. They didn’t really drink tea, it was more of a ‘for guests’ thing, though this probably meant that their one box of tea was out of date because, face it, when did they ever have guests over? Phil would probably bring him a Lucozade and a glass of water. Maybe some Day Nurse if Dan was unlucky enough. He wasn’t above chugging Day Nurse needlessly if it meant he could avoid seeing his mum.

It was all a bit silly -- it wasn’t as if he’d done anything to anger her. What was their last interaction anyway? He’d sent his standard card that felt as forced and pointless as the tradition itself whilst Phil had agonised over if his Amazon order was going to arrive at his parents’ doorstep at exactly 2pm the day before Mother’s Day. Dan's family had never really cared for the frills. What were you meant to do with cards, anyway? Why buy a gift when you can send money? These were the practical things the Howell family believed in.

There was a knock on his door, and Phil was popping his head in to check if Dan was okay.

‘If I say no, will you bring me tea?’ Dan asked. His voice sounded croaky enough to be believable.

‘You’re not sick,’ Phil said. ‘May I come in?’

‘Suit yourself,’ Dan said. ‘I mean, literally, go out and get a biohazard suit, because this place -- man, it’s full of germs.’

‘Right,’ Phil said, and came in anyway. ‘Funny, that. You were fine yesterday.’

‘It came on suddenly,’ said Dan, unnecessarily.

Phil patted the lump of blankets to check for any stray Dan body parts before he sat down. He had a hot mug of coffee that Dan didn’t at all trust him with.

‘Bad day?’ asked Phil, conversationally.

‘I just feel _awful_ ,’ said Dan. ‘You know, just _gross_ and _ill_.’

‘Uh huh.’ Phil settled back against the headboard. ‘Nothing to do with the fact that your mum’s in London?’

‘Oh, was that today?’ Dan thought he sounded quite believable. ‘Oh, that’s a shame. I really wanted to see her.’

‘Shame,’ Phil agreed. ‘We’re also going out to lunch with Laura today. Guess it’ll just be me and Laura, all cozy and romantic.’

This put a new spin on things. One, because Laura was cool and Internet Creators Guild had been something he and Phil had been interested in after Hank Green had drunkenly pitched it to them the last time they’d seen him. Two, because Phil was insinuating something romantic with Laura and fuck if it’d been six years, Dan still felt the little twisty, prickly little feeling whenever Phil did something like that. Not that he had any right to, because they had well and truly broken up _six years ago_ and Dan was So Over It and they co-existed in a happy medium of being best friends and nothing else. Still, something in Dan’s sneaky prick of a heart still twinged and twanged like a pulled muscle whenever Phil brought up anything remotely romantic that didn’t involve Dan.

‘I’m not going to get romantic with Laura,’ said Phil in the silence that followed. ‘Don’t worry.’

‘Not worried,’ said Dan. ‘Just so _ill_.’

Phil laughed. ‘Guess you’re not getting that jacket back then.’

Oh, shit. The jacket. The black denim jacket that Dan had painstakingly chosen to keep after ordering seventeen different black denim jackets and comparing them from sleeve to sleeve. The lady at the post office had looked at him a bit weird when he took the remaining sixteen in for returns. It was well and truly The Perfect Jacket and Dan had neglectfully left it at home over Christmas. His mum had agreed to bring it up for him -- she would remember, Dan knew, because his mum had been good at bringing him forgotten textbooks or homework or his gym kit.

(The gym kit had been left at home on purpose but she’d brought it in for him anyway.)

See, they’d been close once. Close enough that she’d cared to bring him his forgotten homework, anyway. Surely that counted for something.

‘I don’t suppose -’ Dan began.

‘I’m not meeting your mum for you,’ Phil said. ‘I don’t think she likes me very much.’

On an ordinary day, Dan would have shut that down so quick, because aside from that one really angry-looking mum in Jacksonville last year, _everybody loved Phil_. Today wasn’t an ordinary day though, so he sighed, turned over to look up at Phil, and said, ‘I don’t think she likes _me_ very much, to be honest.’

‘ _Dan_.’ Phil hated talking about this, and Dan  _knew_ this, so he wasn’t sure why he even brought it up. Phil was uncomfortable with the fact that Dan was weirdly detached from his family. Phil, like Dan, understood on a logical basis that all families were different, but Phil, like Dan, preferred not to think about the fact that Dan had spent more time with the Lesters this year than his own bloody family.

‘Joking,’ Dan said, and, because it was more effort not to, got out of bed. ‘I’ve made an incredible recovery,’ he announced, stretching his arms out.

‘Praise the lord,’ said Phil. He hadn’t drunk any of his coffee, but he seemed happy enough that they weren’t exploring the deep crevice in Dan’s brain where the hundred and one family issues resided. Phil was a lovely and supportive friend who had almost single-handedly carried Dan through his post-university guilt and depression, but Phil also thought that Dan’s family issues could be fixed by Dan trying harder, which _might_ have been true, but Dan wasn’t entirely keen on finding out.

Dan was aware of Phil watching him as he got undressed, so he took a little longer choosing his shirt for the day. It seemed pointless to ask Phil to leave, because they both knew Phil didn’t want to, and besides, Phil had seen him fully naked at least a hundred times, and that was post-breakup.

They were both adults who could appreciate the male form. Dan had done a grand total of five push-ups yesterday so clearly his male form was on point. Phil was free to ogle if he wanted.

Sometimes Dan thought about bringing it up and asking if Phil wanted to get back together. But most of the time Dan didn’t actually think getting back together was a good idea. It was too messy and too indulgent and they were fine as they were. They were too busy and Dan had reached a point in his life where relationships didn’t mean anything to him because he was busy with work and Phil. He assumed Phil probably felt the same.

They’d both grown up with a burning need to love and be loved; Dan because he’d never had it, and Phil because he’d had too much. It was probably odd that that need was satiated by their friendship, but Dan supposed it made sense somehow, in a convoluted way he didn’t want to bother exploring.

Nothing would change. Except sex. Dan had regretfully discovered that he didn’t actually enjoy sex unless he felt _emotionally connected_ , which made things simultaneously easier and harder, no pun intended. He was still waiting for the day he’d wake up to a _STORYTIME: I HAD SEX WITH DAN HOWELL AND HE CRIED_ video. It’d been five years since The Incident but clickbait was timeless.

Sex wasn’t worth the whole _process_ of getting back together. What was the process anyway? Was he supposed to call Phil _babe_? Kiss him before he left the house? Introduce Phil to his parents? Finally prove to his family that he was, in fact, capable of dating? Sex wasn’t worth actually lying about his and Phil’s relationship. Sometimes the only thing that gave Dan life was the fact that he could refer to Phil as his best friend and not feel like he was hiding anything or denying their endless love for each other.

That had been part of the reason they’d broke up in the first place anyway. Lying and hiding things and being paranoid about being found out hadn’t been good for anyone. It was too late now to come out and say, _surprise!_ without ruining their integrity entirely, anyway.

‘I’m gonna go get dressed,’ Phil said, when Dan was fully dressed. Letting his hair roam in its natural state had cut so much time and fuss from Dan’s morning routine. The thing about curly hair was that Dan’s aunty had always said it was a sign of stubbornness and Dan had _never_ wanted to be known as stubborn.

 _Stubborn_ had never been a good thing in Dan’s experience. He was stubborn if he didn’t want to play footie with the lads. He was stubborn if he wanted to play with Katie’s Barbies. He was stubborn if he did poorly on his maths test. He was stubborn if anything went wrong.

They reconvened in the lounge ten minutes later. Phil had put on a jacket because growing up in the North had put the fear of cold springs into him. Dan had lived in England all his life and yet somehow managed to be surprised by single digit temperatures in spring.

‘No jacket?’ Phil asked.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Dan said. He hadn’t thought this through, and picking a jacket to go with his sweater would be way too much trouble considering the five steps they were currently stood away from his bedroom and the fact that he had gotten wet paint on one of them somehow the last time he had gone outside.

‘Do you think I’m stubborn?’ Dan asked, as Phil locked the door behind them.

‘Sometimes,’ Phil said. ‘It can be a good thing though.’

‘When is stubbornness ever a good thing?’ Dan said, a little petulantly.

‘Well, not now,’ said Phil lightly. ‘You’re _persistent_ and _determined_ , let’s put it that way.’

‘Okay,’ Dan said, because he was really trying not to be stubborn today, and pressed the button for the Uber.

* * *

 

Lunch with Laura was good, because Laura was passionate about her cause and she had visited all the touristy things in London recently which meant they could chat endlessly about all the places Dan and Phil had neglected to visit after nearly five years of living here.

Sometime in between talking about the National Museum and Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Dan had received a text message from his mum about his jacket, which she had, true to form, remembered to bring with her.

It had turned out that she was on a business meeting, which meant she had twenty minutes to spare for Dan before her train home from Euston station. Perhaps the universe was kind after all; Dan didn’t have to deal with extra son guilt and he could get his jacket back. Two wins in a day; God was shining down on Dan after all his blasphemy -- an Easter miracle.

It’d been during the obligatory post-lunch selfie outside that Dan had noticed two things. One, it was freezing outside today, and two, his nipples had noticed.

Google Maps had declared during Dan’s quick, under-the-table search earlier that it was a 20 minute walk to the station and Dan was pretty sure his mother wouldn’t appreciate his pointy nipples. Of all the things she already judged him for, pointy nipples because he forgot to take a jacket out wasn’t one of them _yet_ and Dan wasn’t willing to let it be added to the long list.

Therefore it seemed to be only logical that he turned to Phil after waving goodbye to Laura and said, ‘I need your jacket.’

Phil, to his credit, did not seem that reluctant to part with it. He was going to be sat in a toasty taxi anyway, it would be mean of him to decline.

‘You’ve saved many lives today,’ said Dan. He was bigger than Phil, so the jacket was a little tight around the shoulders. Dan hoped he wouldn’t rip it.

‘I hope your denim jacket is worth it,’ said Phil. He had his arms crossed over his chest now, clearly trying to hide the fact that his nipples had also taken note of the cold. ‘My Uber isn’t even going to be here for five minutes,’ he said. Pouted, even.

‘Go inside and have another coffee,’ Dan said, as he power-walked in what he would soon realise was the wrong direction. He had to get out of there quick before Phil realised parting with his jacket was a bad idea and demanded it back. ‘See you at home.’

Phil’s jacket was really warm and smelled like Phil, which was a smell Dan had grown used to over the years. This was different though. The smell of Phil’s cologne had been worn into the collar and between the seams. Dan had enjoyed being a clothes-stealing boyfriend back then. Apparently that hadn’t changed over the years.

The walk to Euston seemed far too short, but sure enough he was there, and he had spotted his mum, stood in front of the departure boards with his beloved black denim jacket hanging from her arm.

‘You’re wearing your hair curly,’ she said when she saw him. Her hug was brisk. ‘Au naturale.’

‘Been for a while now,’ he said. ‘Thanks. And thanks for bringing the jacket.’

‘It’s no bother,’ she said, handing it over. ‘I like the one you’ve got on a lot better. Grey suits you.’

‘It’s Phil’s -’ Instantly, he regretted it. That was opening up a can of worms, and by the subtle raise of her eyebrow, his mum’s interest had definitely been piqued. ‘We were just at lunch for a business thing and I forgot my jacket. He’s just gone home so he doesn’t need it -- we decided I needed it more for the walk here, um -’ He was rambling, he knew it.

‘Very generous of him,’ said his mum, but she was still watching him cautiously. ‘What a good friend.’ The way she said _friend_ made Dan want to curl into a ball.

See, the thing was that Dan had never actually told his parents about dating Phil all those years ago. As far as his parents were concerned, Dan and Phil had always been Best Friends and Roommates. If he’d said Phil was a boyfriend at the start, they would never have let him step foot onto the train to Manchester, would probably not have let him share a flat with Phil, would _definitely_ not have let him quit law school while staying in that flat.

The Howells were practical, and practical wasn’t letting your teenage son meet his strange online boyfriend, move to his city, and then quit university to film videos in their secretly shared bedrooms.

‘Okay, there was a thing once, between us, like six years ago,’ Dan said, and he didn’t know why he was saying it. It was like his tongue had a mind of its own. ‘We broke up though, obviously. It’s been, uh, friends and nothing more for the past six years. Totally innocent friendship.’

‘Oh.’ His mum looked at him apprehensively. ‘You never said -’

‘I didn’t know what you and Dad would think, to be honest,’ Dan said. Why was he saying this in the middle of Euston station? Why were they having this conversation now? Today had been going so well. ‘I was younger then,’ he said, hoping it would imply that he had learnt better now.

‘Well,’ she said. ‘I appreciate the honesty, Dan.’

He flushed. He couldn’t tell if that was sarcastic or genuine. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I think back then I didn't say anything because I thought you and dad would have worried -’

‘We worried all the same,’ she said. ‘You’re not exactly the best at hiding things, Dan, and we _did_ raise you for eighteen years.’

‘Yes, well,’ Dan said. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. ‘After it ended it just seemed weird to bring it up.’

‘I imagine,’ said his mum. ‘How long was it for?’

‘Sorry?’ He was just stalling at this point.

‘The relationship,’ she said patiently. Dan assessed her body language. It didn’t seem defensive or aggressive. She just looked genuinely interested.

‘About three years, give or take.’ He cringed preemptively.

‘Quite serious,’ said his mum.

‘Ah, quite.’ Dan didn’t really know what to say. ‘But we were young, you know. Me, especially. Um, we figured out that it didn’t quite work -’

‘And now?’

‘Just friends,’ said Dan. ‘Best friends and roommates, the whole shtick, y’know.’

‘Nothing more?’

Dan flushed, feeling embarrassed. ‘Jesus, Mum, are we really gonna talk about this? I mean-’

‘Probably best not to,’ she agreed. ‘Phil _is_ a really nice man though. Your nan likes him a lot. We never hear the end of it, I swear. Every time we ring her, it’s all _I’m so pleased that Dan’s got himself a nice friend_. Aren't we all.’ She smiled, patting him on the arm. ‘Update us if it changes.’

Dan spluttered. ‘Mum, I don’t think-’

‘Just let us know,’ she said, reaching over for another hug. ‘I’m really glad you told me.’

‘Me too,’ Dan said, careful not to stretch his arms too wide in case he ripped Phil’s jacket. ‘Thanks, Mum.’

On any other day Dan’s hand would have itched to text Phil about this weird cathartic encounter with his Mum, but today he stood in comfortable silence with his mum and watched the departure boards until they announced the train platform.

‘I’ll ring you next week,’ she said, as Dan walked her to the gates. ‘Dad’ll have some stories to tell about his friends at the golf club, I’ll expect.’

‘Love you,’ Dan said, and meant it.

‘Love you too,’ she said. ‘Take care now, and tell Phil I said _hello and thank you for taking care of my son_.’

‘I’ll make sure he gets the message,’ Dan promised. In his head, imaginary bells rang.  _Five family points earned! Earn ten more to level up!_

In ten minutes he had bonded more with his mother than he had in the past three years, and all it took was a little awkward honesty. Maybe Phil had been kinda right about opening up to your family. Dan wasn't exactly keen to try it with his dad though.  _That_ was a whole different game. That was the final boss battle in Extreme God Mode, as far as Dan was concerned. 

It was drizzling by the time Dan made his way out of the station, and his beloved black denim jacket hadn’t come with a hood. He stared down at his Uber app, thumb hovering over the button as he contemplated if he should call a taxi. The logical answer would probably have been yes, but Phil’s jacket had a hood, and it smelled like home, so Dan popped the hood over his head and started walking.

And if he took the long route home -- well, he just wanted to enjoy the British weather.

Nothing to do with Phil's jacket.

Shut up.

 

**Author's Note:**

> See, I know I said I wasn't going to write fic but I've been thinking about Dan and Phil (ain't that how it always goes) and today I happened to catch Dan's liveshow so I broke out my writing fingers and wrote this. Also I'm procrastinating studying which is also always how it goes.
> 
> I called this a character study but I have to flag that this is definitely just a work of fiction and I don't actually believe that Dan has an estranged relationship with his family or that this is fully representative of Dan's inner voice etc - this is just for shits and giggles!


End file.
